Bird of Passage
by raisin bean
Summary: A collection of Hibari romance fics. 18 x nearly every guy he's met
1. Birds Don't Play Baseball

**Title:** Bird of Passage

**by:** raisin bean

**Notes:** My dictionary told me that a "bird of passage" is a) a migratory bird and b) a person who passes through or visits a place without staying for long. Well, that's Hibari (although perhaps not so very relevant to the collection itself).

I categorized the whole thing as Romance/Humor because that's what I expect most of them will be, but there may be one or two on the darker side. I'll give a heads-up, so make sure to read my notes!

Also, where these stories fit into the actual storyline is pretty ambiguous, if they do fit in at all.

Fyi, I go by the manga. The anime is kind of ugly compared to the manga, and the things that were added in are ridiculously pointless, in my opinion.

Anyway, enjoy~!

* * *

Title: Birds Don't Play Baseball

Pairing: Hibari x Yamamoto

Preview: Hibari goes to a baseball game at Yamamoto's insistence.

Notes: All right, I don't know enough about baseball to write accurately about it, so forgive the vagueness.

* * *

The day had been a satisfactory one. Hibari had disciplined three miscreants for the offenses of chewing gum, being obnoxiously loud in the hallway, and attempting to spit on school grounds. (He had the uncanny sense of knowing when a person intended to deface Namimori, with spit, paint, mafia duels, etc.) He had also thrashed four others who had crowded outside the boys' bathroom, but he wouldn't include that in his report for the day.

The president of the disciplinary committee settled on the couch in the reception room, the only throne befitting his station as king of Namimori, ready to begin writing his report. However, before he could even pick up his pen, he heard the door behind him open. His eyes narrowed a fraction. Anyone with the smallest shred of good sense knew not to come in without knocking, and that was only if they were brave enough to come in at all.

Standing to greet this trespasser, he withdrew his tonfa. Because he was in a not-as-aggressive mood, he felt he could scare the trespasser away with the menacing stare none but he could produce, and perhaps add in a well-worded threat if needed. However, that course of action was dropped like a repeat offender out of a third-story window as soon as he saw who it was standing in the doorway.

"Hibari! I thought you'd be in here," said Yamamoto Takeshi, the only person Hibari knew who was absolutely devoid of good sense, and thereby completely without fear of Hibari.

The tall baseball star brought with him his own warmth to the unfriendly atmosphere. Still, the source of the unfriendliness was Hibari, so Yamamoto's warmth went unappreciated.

"Man, haven't been in here since that first time," Yamamoto said, looking around the room, oblivious to Hibari's growing ire.

"You remember that, right? That was our first fight. You beat Gokudera, then me," Yamamoto grinned, clearly unbothered by the memory of his defeat. "And you know, after that, I was so bummed. I thought, 'If this guy could beat me down so easily, then I guess I'm not so great.'"

Hibari was already tired of this prattle, but knew that no matter the intensity of the glare or the unconcealed fury in the warning, this boy would not quit.

"What is your purpose in coming here? A fight?" He brought up his tonfa. A fight he would welcome.

Yamamoto held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "No, no, not at all. It's just that tomorrow I've got a game," his grin widened, "and I wanted you to come."

Withdrawing a slip of paper from his pocket, Yamamoto crossed the room to offer the ticket to Hibari. Hibari's eyes flicked from the proffered ticket, then to Yamamoto's expectant eyes.

"And what made you think I would want to go?" The natural cold of Hibari's voice was laced with curiosity.

Yamamoto's free hand went to the back of his head, rubbing in a sheepish manner. "Well, I figured that since you've only seen me fighting, you might want to see me doing something else. And baseball's great to watch."

He waved the ticket in front of Hibari. It was his naivety that really threw Hibari. He probably hadn't even considered the possibility of Hibari's refusal.

Hibari stared at the hand that held the ticket. When that hand held a sword, it moved with fluidity and precision. What would it look like when it swung a bat, threw a ball…?

Hibari snatched the ticket away, scowling. Turning away, he snarled, "Fine. Get out."

Yamamoto obeyed. Only when he'd closed the door behind him did he jump and pump his fist, his eyes mere slits from the wideness of his smile, his lips silently exclaiming, "Yes!"

-----

Hibari regretted his acceptance before he'd even made it to the baseball field. He could hear the cacophony, see the mess of herbivores in the bleachers, and felt a fierce desire to turn back and make for the seclusion of the school roof. Still he persisted, consciously ordering his legs to move, one after the other. He passed the unfortunate boy stuck with ticket collection, pausing only to shove his ticket to the boy's chest and knocking the poor boy down as he did so.

Hibari continued on. Herbivores scattered from his path, even the visitors from the other school. Survival instincts tended to kick in around Hibari, aroused by his predatory aura. He stopped before the bleachers, scanning the meaningless faces for a pocket of space where he could situate himself. He was interrupted by a hand that landed on his shoulder.

"Hibari, you came!" said Yamamoto, the owner of the hand. Hibari lowered his eyes to look pointedly at the hand, but Yamamoto chose not to notice. Using his hand as the lead, he tugged Hibari along to the farthest end of the bleachers. That side was oddly empty. Hibari realized the reason was the paper taped down on the corner, which read "HIBARI KYOUYA'S SEAT" in large, handwritten letters. All the herbivores knew better than to go anywhere near something with his name on it.

Yamamoto released Hibari to rip the paper off the seat, then gestured to it for Hibari to sit. Somewhat mollified by the absence of herbivores around him, Hibari did sit. Crossing his arms, he looked up to Yamamoto.

Yamamoto stood with his hands behind his head, fingers intertwined. The pristine white baseball uniform set him aglow in the sunlight. Yamamoto pointed at the closest of the white diamonds on the field. "That's the home plate. I made sure to get you the best view, so you can see me home run every time!" He laughed.

Hibari regarded him with something like vague amusement. Yamamoto opened his mouth to say something more, but his teammate called him, "Hey Yamamoto! We're starting!"

"Coming!" Yamamoto shouted back, before turning to Hibari once more. "Guess it's my time. Cheer me on!"

Yamamoto jogged away, and Hibari prepared himself for what he expected to be an uneventful game. Honestly, the more he thought about it, the more puzzled he became. Here he was, at a baseball game of all places, when he knew next to nothing about baseball. But he did understand Yamamoto's confidence. The baseball star intended to win, and he wanted Hibari to witness his victory.

The game began. Yamamoto was pitching. The Namimori fans chanted his name. Yamamoto buried the baseball into his mitt as he raised his left leg up. He paused for less than a second in that position before rushing forward in one step and releasing the ball. It went straight from hand to hand, stopping in the catcher's mitt. The batter didn't even have time to swing. Hibari noted that the catcher shook his hand and winced. Yamamoto repeated the process two more times, then the batter was replaced.

It was the cheering from his side that made Hibari realize the true purpose of sports. This was not a mere baseball game, but a challenge to prove whose school was the superior. And Hibari knew for a fact that there was no school better than Namimori. However, he could not say the same for its herbivore students. So he decided to put his interest in the game.

If Yamamoto's teammates hadn't noticed his presence yet, they did when they felt the chill of his gaze. Hibari looked each fielder in the eye and even without words, his message was clear: "If you do not catch the ball, I will bite you to death."

Fear provided great incentive for the herbivores. Even when Yamamoto sat out, his teammates handled the game themselves quite well, just without the frightening skill Yamamoto displayed. Hibari's tonfa remained in their hidden spot since he had no need for them… yet.

As it happened, he didn't need them at all. The Namimori team was murdering the opposing team. He felt a lightness in his heart and suspected it was pride. Now three boys were at all three bases, and everyone could feel the end coming.

"This is it!" an excited boy far to Hibari's right said. "The Namimori grand slam!"

Yamamoto was up to bat. As he brought his bat up into a ready position, Yamamoto shot Hibari a winning smile. (Unsurprisingly, Hibari did not reciprocate.) The pitcher threw the ball. It was a reasonably fast throw, but to Hibari's trained eyes, the ball didn't even blur. His eyes tracked the ball up until it came into Yamamoto's range, then it was gone. Hibari looked across to the guest side, and they were all confused. Yamamoto helped them out by pointing up at the sky, where the smallest black dot against the sun steadily grew smaller with distance.

Yamamoto and three other boys ran from their respective bases all the way around to the home plate. Yamamoto came up last. As soon as he passed the home plate, the crowd erupted into overwhelming noise. He didn't stop at the base, not till he stood before Hibari, who also stood to meet him. Yamamoto didn't say anything--just grinned in his idiotic way, his soft brown eyes alight. Sweat glistened on his sun-kissed skin, running down the side of his face down to his strong chin.

"You're like a good luck charm," Yamamoto finally said loudly, trying to be heard. "I guess-"

That was as far as he got before he was swept up by the mass. His blue cap was knocked off by the enthusiasm of his teammates and fans, and it seemed the rest of his clothes might soon follow from the pulling and tugging of groping hands, desperate for a touch of their hero. His mouth was open with triumphant laughter, flashing even white teeth. It was a picture-worthy moment, although Hibari had no camera, nor any want for one. Instead, he pulled his black blazer up on his shoulders, then proceeded to the exit.

'Perhaps,' he thought, 'there is something to be said for baseball, and for Yamamoto Takeshi.'

He left with the memory of sun-kissed skin and a smile like no other.

----

Two weeks later, Hibari found himself seated in front of the home plate once again, watching Yamamoto kick up dust as he went for the home run.

* * *

End Notes: No touchy-feely romance, but I still consider it romance. On a side-note, I didn't notice till after I finished writing this that I completely omitted Hibird. Oh well, he'll be around in later chapters.


	2. Just One Time

Title: Just One Time

Pairing: Hibari x Gokudera

Preview: Gokudera's POV. The first is always the most memorable.

Warning: Sexual themes, plus one b-word and one f-word.

* * *

The first was completely unexpected. No, that's not true. It'd been waiting for us all along, an almost imperceptible, unknowable _thing_ between us--but I'd refused to acknowledge it.

And I guess he just got fed up.

----

_The scene is so clear to me._

It is early in the morning. I am leaning against the wall beside a large window. The school building is empty because the few students present are milling about outside in the courtyard.

An unlit cigarette hangs between my lips. I fish a lighter out of my pocket, spark it, and hold the small flame up to the tip of my cig. The flame blows out from the rush of air caused by a steel tonfa swinging just beneath my nose to knock the cig out of my mouth. Apparently the building is not empty.

"Gokudera Hayato," says the owner of the tonfa. "Smoking on school grounds is prohibited."

I have dynamite between all my fingers in an instant, a scowl contorting my lips. "You think I give a damn?"

I'm not surprised when he suddenly takes me by the collar--casually too, like he's just trying to adjust my tie--and slams me against the opposite wall. He then effectively immobilizes me by sandwiching me between him and the wall. I know that if I want to escape, through the wall is the best route.

I'm aware of this not good situation in an impersonal way, as if I'm still standing by the window with the cigarette, watching him and me. (Merely the audience of a play with a predetermined ending.)

_The scene is so clear to me now._

His tonfa is cold against my pulsing throat. He's so close that I can feel his body heat. I smell jasmine tea as he says softly, "You do."

His words make me uncomfortable because they answer a different question. The proximity doesn't help either.

"Get off me, bastard," I say with as much belligerence as I can muster. I look away from him because I can't bear to see the obscure emotion in his eyes (eyes the color of cigarette smoke, of storm clouds).

Instead, I see the end of the hallway, and I briefly wonder how long he'd been standing there watching me. (Always?)

He uses his free hand to grip my chin, not gently either, and forces me to face him. I can do nothing (want to do nothing) as he captures me.

I marvel at the softness of his lips even as he becomes insistent in his kissing, and I respond to his want. One of my hands caresses his neck while the other clutches his hip. I hear the ring of mental when the tonfa falls, allowing his free hands to tangle in my hair. My breath catches when he bites my lip, hard enough to feel, but not so hard as to break blood. It is all desperate touch and uninhibited desire in this heated moment.

After a time, we part. He leans his forehead against my own, breathes words that enter my ears and resonate in my body.

"If you need an addiction," his tongue flashes over his bottom lip, "then let it be me."

_Just this one time_, I think. I move to close the distance between us.

-----

The scene is so clear to me now.

Fingers flutter over my abdomen, impossibly light.

_His fingers._

Teeth sink into my neck. I imagine veins bursting under the pressure.

_His teeth._

I shudder. My lips form a name soundlessly.

_His name._

"Fuck, yes--!"

We are caught in each other.

* * *

Sorry for the super long time I took on this one. I had an idea in the beginning, but it came up to a dead end. Then I ended up writing this whole thing in one night, with small bits taken from the first draft. Fickle inspiration.

Then it wouldn't upload for three days. Poo.

Well, next up is dame-Tsuna.

Reviews = 3


	3. Prayer

Title: Prayer

Pairing: Hibari x Tsuna

Preview: Repetition helps.

Warning: Sexual themes

* * *

The day was bright and clear, a day when all children rush outdoors to embrace the breeze and fill the air with laughter. But at the Sawada household, the only sounds heard were cries of pain.

"OW, Reborn!" cried Sawada Tsunayoshi in pain. "Ow ow ow!"

"Dame-Tsuna, you need to focus better," said Reborn, the baby who now held Tsuna's arm in an unnatural bend, despite being one-fifth the size of the boy at his mercy. After another twist, Reborn released his poor student, who dropped to the floor with a thump and exhalation of relief.

"To think you can't solve an algebra equation as simple as this," scolded Reborn. "Your awful mathematics skills reflect badly on me too."

Tsuna just groaned. He received a lecture like this at least once a day, and as much as he would like to scrape a passing grade on his tests or complete his homework properly, if only to get Reborn off his back, he just couldn't. The math problems might as well be in English, for all he could understand, and his English grade was as bad as his math one.

Tsuna's daily wallow in self-degradation was interrupted, as it always is, by Reborn.

"Here. I'll give you this."

Reborn threw something in Tsuna's face.

"Ouch!"

The something clattered to the floor.

"You could've just handed it to me…" Tsuna rubbed his nose, looking at Reborn petulantly. Then he saw what Reborn had bestowed upon him. "What do I need a bracelet for anyway?"

On the floor between Tsuna and Reborn lay the bracelet, a long one made of large, polished wooden beads with inscriptions, and smaller plain beads alternating between, all strung on a thin leather cord. Tsuna eyed it suspiciously, reluctant to touch it. Knowing Reborn, it was likely to attach itself permanently to his skin, or explode, or both.

"Those are prayer beads, dame-Tsuna," Reborn explained. "You hold one bead at a time, chant a prayer or meditate on an idea, till you go through the entire bracelet. It is an exercise in calm and focus. I suggest you chant to yourself, 'I, dame-Tsuna, will not be such a pathetic student, so my brilliant home tutor Reborn will not shoot me between the eyes.'"

Reborn pointed small fingers in the shape of a gun at Tsuna's face, then at Tsuna's wrist, where, to his great surprise, the bracelet was. He hadn't seen Reborn move from the spot.

"To further strengthen this exercise, some exercise is in order. You will run fifty laps from here to school and back again, saying your prayers with the beads. The repetition of the prayers combined with your rounds should drill the idea into your feeble brain. Now, get out."

So saying, Reborn kicked Tsuna out of the house. Tsuna rubbed his behind as he walked away.

He really didn't want to do fifty laps, but he didn't want Reborn to twist his arm again either, or worse. But, as he looked around, there was only a couple walking in the opposite direction. Otherwise, the street was empty.

He looked back up at his window, and choked with indignation. Reborn was in his hammock, fast asleep. The telltale bubble ballooned from his nose.

Reborn didn't want him to exercise, he just wanted to get rid of him during nap time!

Feeling discarded, Tsuna walked aimlessly down the road, fingering the beads of the bracelet. It was long enough to wrap around his wrist twice and still have a bit of slack, but now he draped the bracelet on his palm as he held one bead at a time.

Maybe he'd visit Yamamoto at the sushi shop. They could play video games, drink soda pop, laze about, talk about things that were not at all mafia-related, like girls, or baseball. Yamamoto's dad might even make sushi for lunch.

Then Tsuna remembered that today was Saturday, which meant Saturday baseball practice.

His happy vision of finally beating Yamamoto at MarioKart was effectively flattened.

Still… he could go watch Yamamoto practice. And maybe after they could hang out.

Considerably cheered now that he had somewhere to go, Tsuna set off for Namimori Middle School with a spring in his step.

Just outside the gate, Tsuna could already hear the distant crack of a baseball meeting bat and faint shouts. He lingered there a moment, feeling a little strange coming here on a weekend. Crack! The echo of another baseball's ascent into the sky reminded him why he was here in the first place, so he pushed the gate open and went in.

"Herbivore."

Tsuna jumped.

"Hibari-san!"

Hibari Kyoya stood there in the shade of a tree, collar sharp, hair sleek, his arms crossed beneath the blazer hung on his shoulders.

"You scared me, Hibari-san," said Tsuna nervously. In truth, Hibari scared him all the time.

"You are loitering on school property on a Saturday. That is not allowed."

Now Hibari moved smoothly into the sun, a corona alight on his dark head. Tsuna automatically took a step back. Even when he wasn't making any sort of threatening gesture and his hands were empty, Hibari still had the unmistakable presence of a predator, and to be close to such a presence went against natural instinct.

Hibari noticed Tsuna's recoil, and smirked. He'd been feeling a bit bored, and here a little herbivore had wandered into his territory. And it was this _particular_ herbivore… He licked his lips unconsciously.

"Sorry," said Tsuna, continuing to back away with his hands before him in a placating gesture, "I'll just get going now…!"

And with that, Tsuna turned and ran-or tried to, but his neck collided with the tonfa held before him by Hibari's hand.

"Running away?" said Hibari. His breath ghosted over the back of Tsuna's neck, making Tsuna shiver involuntarily.

"N-no, I just, I came to see Yamamoto at baseball practice," Tsuna rambled, very aware of the cold steel on his neck and the menacing aura behind him. "I thought I'd see if he's free after, so we could hang out, maybe eat sushi, his dad makes really good sushi-"

Hibari stopped listening, instead focusing his intense gaze on the movement of the herbivore's throat, the fine cords jumping, thrumming.

"-and Reborn said to come here-well, no, he said to make laps between here and my house, and he also gave me these beads-they're prayer beads-"

He'd closed in on the smaller boy without realizing it, inclining his head, his mouth parted just above the junction between neck and shoulder, when Tsuna turned around.

Tsuna gasped loudly. Hibari's eyes widened a fraction.

Just a bead's breadth of space separated their faces.

After three heartbeats, Hibari realized two things. First, his still outstretched arm ending in tonfa now encircled the herbivore, who'd moved into his bodily snare rather than out of it. Second, the warmth on his chest was the other boy's hand. His grey eyes moved from the clear, liquid brown eyes to regard that hand, which held something.

Tsuna almost dropped the prayer beads under Hibari's scrutiny, but managed to keep his grip on them when he pulled his hand safely back to himself.

"L-like I said, these are prayer beads-well, maybe you knew that already, but if you didn't-I got them from Reborn, and he says they're good for meditation and focusing and being calm, so-you take them."

Tsuna thrust the beads into Hibari's chest, and Hibari reflexively caught them before they fell.

"I think Hibari-san could make good use of them," Tsuna explained. He looked up sincerely at Hibari through the fringe of hair above his eyes.

The boy's cheeks were pink, Hibari noticed. His lips were pink as well.

His lips tasted pink as well.

Tsuna was numb with shock, numb everywhere except his lips where he felt every caress of Hibari's lips. He was dimly surprised at the tenderness with which Hibari kissed him, but for Hibari it was just the beginning. Simply the first drop of flavor on his tongue with a banquet set out before him.

Hibari dropped the tonfa to seize the ends of Tsuna's hair, his other hand, wrapped in the prayer beads, pulling the younger boy in by the waist. He'd gotten a taste, and wouldn't deny himself more. Now his mouth clearly indicated its intention to ravage Tsuna's. And Tsuna could only cling to the front of Hibari's shirt with a vague desperation, lips parting at the insistence of Hibari's tongue-

"So this is where you've been slacking off."

The sound of someone else's voice disturbed the two when they'd thought they were alone. They sprang apart, hearts hammering, then both looked up to where the voice originated.

On the lowest branch of the same tree Hibari had stood beneath sat Reborn, his little legs dangling. He reached up his hand to the little green lizard on the brim of his fedora, and the lizard morphed into a small megaphone. Holding the megaphone to his mouth, Reborn said clearly and loudly:

"PUBLIC DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION ARE FORBIDDEN ON NAMIMORI MIDDLE SCHOOL CAMPUS."

"Reborn!" Tsuna exclaimed, his eyes darting to and fro. "What if someone hears you?"

Reborn leapt off the branch, landing neatly atop Tsuna's head. Tsuna yelped.

"Come, dame-Tsuna. You've had enough play for today, it's time to return to your studies."

Tsuna looked helplessly at Hibari, who stared back silently. Then Tsuna resignedly made his way to the school's front gate.

Amidst the abundant sandy brown hair, Reborn turned back to look at Hibari. The baby's large black eyes gleamed.

Hibari clutched the beads tightly in his hand as he watched the herbivore and the baby leave the school bounds.

It was a long time before he could move from the spot and resume his leaning position against the tree. The courtyard was crowded with leaves. Faraway shouts from the baseball field. The cool shade. Things were just as they were before the herbivore's appearance. It felt as if he'd gone back in time.

He rolled the beads between his fingers, determining, with the transition of smooth wood to the creases of the engravings, that time had not reversed. The boy would not arrive at the gate, pause, then come inside.

The boy who had the coloring of a deer, all soft brown and cream…

That delicate neck he just wanted to sink his teeth into…

Those wide gullible eyes, sparkling…

The burst of flame on his brow, his smoldering eyes, how they always made Hibari's neck prickle and his teeth itch…

The way he couldn't quite determine whether the boy was an insignificant herbivore or a formidable rival…

How he couldn't decide whether he wanted to bite the boy to death, or devour him thoroughly.

He'd reached the end of the string of beads.

Then, the only thing to do was start again.

* * *

Inspired by the title page of chapter 29: Hospitalization. Hibari has what looks to be prayer beads attached to his belt, and I wondered who gave them to him…

Phew, it's been a good long while. Let's see if I can take this back up.


End file.
